


Dragons Unleashed

by The_New_Kid



Series: Amei [2]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23289586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_New_Kid/pseuds/The_New_Kid
Summary: Duncan seeks revenge when his friend, Amei is attacked by a gang.This is the second in a series, the first one is titled Big Brother.Thanks for reading.Please leave comments and let me know how I’m doing!
Series: Amei [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674757
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Duncan stood patiently near the arrivals tunnel watching as the line of passengers filed by. Familiar greetings and cries of joy abounded all down the terminal, as loved ones were welcomed by wives, husbands, cousins, lovers, and even strangers meeting for the first time. Suddenly Duncan had the all-too familiar feeling overcome him from behind. That tingling, queasy sensation, as the hair rose on the back of his neck. He turned around quickly, and promptly deposited the bouquet of flowers he held into Amei’s surprised arms.

Amei’s nose wrinkled in mock dissatisfaction. “Damn your sixth sense,” the petite Asian girl pouted. “I’ll never be able to sneak up on you!” She scolded as she hugged him, almost crushing the flowers.

“That’s the whole point.” Duncan reminded her. “Let’s get the rest of your things. You’re staying with me until you find your own apartment.”

“Great!” Grinned Amei, obviously pleased.

“The baggage claim’s downstairs.”

Amei shook her head. “This is all I’ve got,” She said, indicating to her knapsack. “I always travel light.”

“That’s it?” Asked Duncan with disbelief. “You’ve been around for three hundred years, and this is all you have to show for it?”

“This and my Swiss bank account!” Amei shrugged off with a laugh.

“Are you hungry? We can stop off for a bite to eat on the way home.” He offered as he picked up her bag.

“No, thanks, I ate on the plane.” She answered. Duncan gave a disdainful look. “I’m probably the only person in the world that actually likes airplane food” She continued.

“Maybe that’s because you’re the only one on board who’s sure they’re not going to die from it.” Duncan joked, as they walked through the terminal.

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” defended Amei, “anything’s better than the gruel they serve at the convent.”

“Is that why you left?”

“No. It was dismal. Pretty boring, really.” She admitted. “After I got there I realized I didn’t want to start over again so I wallowed in self-pity for two weeks got tired of that, packed up, phoned you and left.” She squeezed his arm fondly. “I decided that it was much better to be here with you, even if it is dangerous.”

“What’s dangerous?” Protested Duncan, as the terminal doors slid open for them.

Amei gave him an all-knowing look. “You attract danger, Duncan MacLeod.” She remarked, “it always finds you.”

“Well, you found me, didn’t you?” Duncan ribbed Amei, as they exited the terminal.

(...)__________________________________________________________________________________

The Boys watched with interest as the convertible jet black, Mint-condition 1956 Thunderbird glided into its’ parking spot. Slash, the self-proclaimed leader of the group, took out his switchblade and habitually started to trim his nails with the tip, a threatening move he had seen in a movie once. Without a word he indicated with his eyes to his brother, Crackerjack, who was preoccupied telling the others a joke, as usual, and had not noticed the car driving up from behind. Crackerjack let out an unintelligible remark under his breath and smiled knowingly at his older brother.

All six of The Boys were dressed similarly, ripped jeans and t-shirts under loudly plaid shirts, with their unkempt hair held out of their eyes with bandannas or baseball caps, rebelliously worn backwards. Only Slash and Crackerjack had black leather jackets. All the caps and bandannas had different designs, but the most prominent colour was red denoting with pride that they were each a member of a select gang.

They found in each other a comfort. Together they had the courage to do what they could not individually. Like a pack of hungry wolves, they devoured the neighbourhood taking what they wanted and instilling fear into the residents. Penny-ante thugs, they dealt in extortion and minor drug trafficking, having neither the funds nor the brains to go into the major leagues. Caught up in Slash’s persuasive big talk and living in a fantasy world they imagined themselves with each insignificant deal to be making leaps and bounds into the fast-track, high-stakes world of real drug money.

In the meantime, they just stole whatever they needed. Right now, that Thunderbird looked real good. If not for keeps, maybe a joy ride...

Duncan watched The Boys suspiciously with the corner of his eye as he came around the front of the vehicle to open the door for Amei. He had seen them hanging around before, looking for trouble. When he reached the car door, Amei stood up, wrapped her arms arms around his neck, and gave him a big wet one, right on the lips.

“What was that for?” He asked, as he lifted her out of the car like a youngster. She always seemed so childlike, partially because she was so small, regardless of the fact that she was almost as old as he was. On the best of days, she was at least a foot shorter than he and as a result, he always felt protective toward her.

“I didn’t thank you for the flowers.” She answered, as her feet touched the ground. “You should see what I do for candy!” She laughed over her shoulder, as she walked over to the back door of the building. She loved to flirt with him because she felt safe. In all the years she had known him, he had always been too much of a gentleman to take her up on her offers.

Duncan smiled to himself and shook his head at the surprisingly brazen sexual innuendoes coming from a girl who was, until recently, a nun.

Following close behind, he paused only just before entering his home and quickly gave a warning glance over at The Boys, making sure they knew he had seen them.  
(...)__________________________________________________________________________________

“I cleared out this drawer for you,” Duncan told Amei as he opened it to show her while they stood in his large, bohemian bachelor loft, “and you can use the wardrobe, too, although I can see you won’t need it...” he concluded as Amei put her knapsack on the bed to unpack.

Amei shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I needed to get rid of a few things, anyways.” Duncan reassured her as he lay on the bed to watch. “You’ll be here for a little while, so we can take turns on the couch.”

“Sounds cosy.” She commented. “I hope I won’t cramp your style...what if you have a hot date?”

“Then you’re out on your ass!” He quipped.

“Well, at least I know where I stand! I guess I’d better make some more friends fast, huh?” She joked as she put the last of her belongings into the drawer and closed it. “Do you have anything to drink?” She asked, feeling a little parched.

“Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge. I’m afraid I didn’t have time to buy any groceries, though.” He apologized.

“That’s ok, I’ll do it.” Offered Amei, as she headed toward the kitchen. “The best part of arriving with nothing is that you get to go shopping for everything you need! Oops...spoke too soon!” She realized as she opened up the refrigerator to reveal only an opened bottle of white wine, a wilted celery stalk, a couple of eggs, and half a loaf of stale French bread. “Want some wine?” She offered to Duncan as he suddenly jumped from the bed.

“In a minute,” he answered, “I want to go back downstairs and secure the car, it’s getting dark.” He didn’t think it necessary to mention the uneasy feeling he got from The Boys earlier, which gave him the incentive to get up and check around.

“Enslave not your possessions, lest they enslave you.” Recited Amei, as she shook her head in mock despair.

“Did you get that from some High Lama?”

“No, from a cult I joined in the Seventies. It was their way of getting you to sign all your assets over to them.” She grinned, as she took out two wine glasses.

“You joined a cult?” Duncan paused as he put on his coat.

“I did a lot of things over the past three hundred years to stay on Holy Ground,” Amei answered, “which, by the way, cults don’t count as.” she added, pouring the wine, “Believe me, I learned the hard way.”

“Well, you’re going to have to tell me all about it when I get back.” He requested as he headed down the stairs.  
(...)__________________________________________________________________________________

Slash ran his hand along the side of the sleek black Thunderbird. Rich guys have all the luck he thought to himself, but not for long. “No alarm,” he said across the vehicle to his brother. “People should take more care with their valuables.” He looked around nonchalantly, jumped over the car door, and sat down at the driver’s wheel.

Crackerjack joined him on the other side. “Someone could just help himself.” he agreed enthusiastically. A couple of the other boys jumped into the back seat. Crackerjack looked at his brother for a signal, and then reached under the dash, only to come up again suddenly, when he heard a wolf whistle. Slash turned toward the sound.

A girl had walked by one of the boys serving as lookout on the end of the alley and was heading toward them. She was round and plain looking with mousey brown, shoulder-length hair, wearing a waitress’ uniform with a light pink sweater. In her hands she carried a large bag of groceries from the corner store. Crackerjack quickly sat upright. 

“Hey Pepita, where are you going in such a hurry?” The boy asked as he followed her. The girl, sensing trouble, lowered her head and tried to ignore him as she walked faster.

Slash sat up on the back of the seat as she brushed by him and reached into her bag taking out an orange. “Did you bring enough for everyone?” He asked her. The car was quickly forgotten. It could wait. Here was more exciting prey. Frightened, the girl started to run. Crackerjack, who had already gotten out of the car stopped her before she could get to the main street, took the bag and rummaged through it. Another boy grabbed her shoulders as she struggled and turned her around. She screamed and ran through the alleyway terrified, back the way she came, unknowingly herded away from the main street and possible safety. Instead, she found herself in the loading dock of an adjacent building with no escape. Seeing that she was trapped, The Boys descended upon her, slowly. They passed the grocery bag amongst themselves, taking what they wanted, and discarding everything else.

“Is this all you have for us?” Crackerjack asked her.

The terrified girl pushed herself up against the brick wall, still desperately trying to get away from them. Slash approached her first. He was close enough to hear her drawing her breath in short panicked gasps, and revelled in the fear he was generating in her. Pressing his body up against hers, he could feel her trembling as he ran his hand up her leg and under her skirt. “I think you can give us much...more.”  
(...)__________________________________________________________________________________

Duncan checked around before he stepped into the alleyway. The Boys seemed to be gone. Perhaps they got the message. Still, to be on the safe side...he went over to the car and proceeded to undo the latches on the convertible and bring the roof up to the windshield. No sooner had he fastened it securely, than he heard a terrified scream coming from one of the buildings. Immediately he ran toward the sound with no regard for his own safety.

When he reached the loading dock he could make out at the other end, the gang members he had seen earlier surrounding a girl. One of them had his hand covering her mouth as she was desperately trying to pull his other hand away from her thigh.

Approaching them angrily, he broke in and grabbed the closest boy by the shoulders, hauling him away from the others. “Can I play?” He asked facetiously. The boy staggered back a little and then threw a punch at him. Duncan blocked it, and drove his fist into his stomach. The kid crumpled onto the concrete, as Duncan pivoted on his supporting leg and side kicked this friend, who lunged at him.

Another boy attacked, only to be greeted with a powerful elbow in his jaw. Duncan easily evaded the punch, now waylaid, and hooked the uprisen arm, twisting it against his. He heard the arm crack against his muscle and felt it go limp, while its’ owner cried out in immense pain, falling to the ground. Duncan gave one last blow across his back to bring him down. Without missing a beat he then delivered a spinning back kick into Crackerjack’s chest sending him crashing into one of the other boys. They both landed in a heap. “I don’t know if I should stay. You guys don’t play fair.” He remarked.

The next boy he had already judged to be the hardest to beat. Albeit he was the same height as Duncan, an access of fat and muscle gave him at least a hundred-pound advantage. Using all his weight, the boy tackled him against the wall. Duncan felt the wind rush out of his body as they collided, the back of his head slamming into the unrelenting brick but he still managed to knee his assailant in the chest. To his surprise, it had virtually no effect, even when he repeated the move. Undaunted, he took his fist and drove it into his attacker’s spine. The jolt of pain caused the boy to let go long enough for Duncan to raise his knee again, this time across his neck, at the same time sandwiching it against his elbow. As his opponent dropped to the ground, Duncan held him in a headlock. “Good night,” he said to him, pressing into the windpipe until the brute passed out.

Slash, seeing all his companions now eliminated, let go of the girl and came after the man himself, brandishing his switchblade. Duncan agilely stepped out of the way, grabbed his arm, turned and elbowed him in the ribs. He then wrenched the weapon out of his hand, flipping him to the ground in the process. He kicked the blade away and towered over the boy, daring him to attack again. Slash, now unarmed and without the support of the other Boys who had since scattered, stopping only to help their comrades up, had no choice but to flee for his life as well. But his pride, what was left of it, anchored him one moment longer as he shook his fist at Duncan. “You’re gonna regret this, Mister.” He threatened.  
Then he took off after the others into the darkening night.

Duncan waited until the footsteps died out before letting his guard down. He turned the girl, who had fallen into a sobbing heap on the ground when Slash let go of her. “Are you alright?” He asked as he helped her up.

“I...I think so.” She looked up for the first time at the man who saved her. He was tall, handsome and strong. He held her gently, yet these same hands protected her only a few moments ago from incredible danger. Her hero. He looked at her intently as if waiting for her to say more. His eyes were dark and beautiful and suddenly she found herself speechless as emotion overwhelmed her. She started to cry again.

“You’re safe now.” Duncan assured as he put his arm around the girl’s shoulder. The masculine scent of leather from his jacket surrounded her comfortingly. He started to ask the girl if she knew the boys that attacked her, if she wanted to press charges, or even report it to the police and that he would be available if he needed her. She gazed into his eyes in awe, not quite hearing all that he was saying. He handed her his card. “Martial Arts,” she read out loud.

“Yes, I teach it.” Duncan nodded. Then he thought of something. “You know, you really should come by for some lessons, it could help you if you were ever in this kind of predicament again.”

The girl took a deep breath. “Maybe...I’ll think about it.”

“You should.” He could see that she was still a little shaken, and handed her his handkerchief to wipe her tears. “I’d better take you home,” he offered. “Where do you live?” She pointed in the right direction. As they walked, she clutched the handkerchief he had given her, closely.


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie sat in the chair across the desk from Duncan. The same desk that used to be his before he sold the Dojo to the man. Now he was just an employee, but he still had a say in how the place was run and couldn’t help feeling a little possessive about the business. “I’m going to make some changes around here,” Duncan began.

“Good,” remarked Charlie, secretly happy that the problems of a floundering Dojo were now on someone else’s shoulders, “so you’ve been thinking about those new mats I told you about?”

Duncan smiled, completely aware of the ulterior motive behind Charlie’s persistence. “Not those kind of changes, Charlie. I’d like to...”

He was interrupted by a quick knock on the office door as Amei cheerfully looked in. “You ready?” She asked. She was dressed in sweat clothes and sparring gear because Duncan had invited her to work out and asked her down earlier that morning for a session. Charlie regarded her garb with astonishment.

“Almost,” he answered. “Come in for a minute. I want you to meet someone. Charlie De Salvo, this is Amei Leung.” Amei took one glove off and secured it under her left arm to shake his hand. A large, strong hand quickly enveloped hers. Amei seemed immediately dwarfed as the huge black man stood up to greet her. She smiled at him. He really wasn’t any bigger than Duncan, but perhaps the fact that he was so thin made him seem taller. 

“So I was thinking,” Duncan said after all the usual introductions were passed around, “that it would be a good idea to start a women’s self defence class, and I’d like Amei to teach it.”

Amei and Charlie both looked at him with surprise. “A job?” She asked, “I’m not even here twenty-four hours, and you’re offering me a job?”

“The pay’s good.” Duncan shrugged.

“That’s not the point, I don’t need a job.” She answered trying to dissuade him, but she could see he had made up his mind and sighed. “You don’t have to pay me,” she offered graciously. “I’d be happy to do it.

“I was counting on that,” he smiled, satisfied. “I’ll be out in a moment,” he added, dismissing her. It was obvious even to Amei, that Charlie was upset. She quickly left and sat on the bench outside the office to wait for Duncan. 

“Nice of you to consult me,” Charlie remarked sarcastically. 

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I tried to tell you,” Duncan began.

“Where are you going to put them?” Charlie continued, outraged. “This is a men only club. We don’t even have any shower facilities...”

“Those were some of the changes I was going to talk to you about,” Duncan tried to explain.

“The guys aren’t going to like this,” he protested. “You’re taking a big chance.”

“What’s life without excitement?” Duncan smiled.

Charlie glared at him. “I don’t understand you, MacLeod. Why can’t you leave well enough alone?” Shaking his head he stormed out of the office, almost mowing down Amei.

“Look, Charlie,” she said trying to make peace with him, “I know you’re not happy about me being here.”

“It’s his club,” Charlie broke in, indicating to Duncan. “He can run it any way he wants to.” He turned to leave.

Amei grabbed his arm and held him back for a second. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” she offered, “Other than my class, I’m just going to work out here after hours, that way it’ll stay basically a men’s club, OK?”

Charlie just huffed and pulled away.

“It’s not your problem,” said a voice behind her. “He just needs some time to cool off.“ Amei turned to see Duncan putting on his gloves. “C’mon, let’s spar.” He said, bonking her on top of the head with a gloved hand.

They bowed as they convened on the mat and took their positions. Then Duncan stood up and reached for a piece of jewellery Amei was wearing around her neck. It was a small, round metal ball on a cord with the image of a dragon set on it. “How many times have I told you not to wear this stuff when you’re fighting?” He chastised her. “It could be dangerous.”

“It’s my good luck charm.” She insisted. “The only time it won’t be around my neck is when I don’t have a head to keep it on.”

“One hit in the right place, and it could go right into your sternum,” Duncan reminded her. “You’d be out of action immediately.”

“Then I’d better make sure I protect it huh?” She challenged as she dropped it into her shirt and put up her guard. They circled each other cautiously, each waiting for the other to provide an opening. Amei, who was never as patient as Duncan, got tired of waiting for him to attack and struck first, with a roundhouse kick to the side. Duncan met it with a downward block as Amei came in with a left hook to his now unprotected right side, which he deflected with his right arm. Then he reached over with his left, and bonked her on the top of the head again. Amei ducked to the side and spun, delivering a side kick to his torso. Kicks were her best defence. Because she was not as strong as the boys, she made up for size and strength with speed and accuracy. Even so, it was an unfair match. Duncan kept teasing her with bonks on top of the head which, being so small, was the only spot Amei couldn’t keep well guarded, until she got in a good uppercut to the jaw when he was being too cocky.

Duncan laughed and pulled back, feeling his jaw. Then he noticed a lone figure at the doorway, looking lost. It was the girl from the night before. He stopped, bowed and excused himself and went to see what she wanted.

The girl looked about feeling a little conspicuous around all the men working out, so she stayed near the doorway. She was determined to find Duncan and saw him at the other end of the Dojo. He approached, dazzling her with his perfect smile. “How are you doing?” He asked, concerned about any traumatic effects brought about from the night before. 

“I’m fine,” she answered glad that he seemed to care. “I-I was thinking about what you said the other night, about self-defence classes?”

“And?”

“And...I’d...like to learn.” He was godlike, and the thought of taking lessons from him made her tremble with anticipation.

“Good. You won’t regret it!” He flashed the perfect smile again as she took a deep breath, happy with the decision she had made. 

He turned and called someone over. “Amei...”

Amei was watching some of the boys practising, keeping a wary eye on one fellow, obviously a beginner at sparring, who was jumping around like a jack-in-the-box. Too gung-ho, she quietly assessed. The worst kind. Unpredictable. She quickly excused herself from them and stood beside Duncan. He put his arm around her shoulder. “Amei,” he introduced, “this is...” he looked at the girl quizzically.

“Chelsea.” She replied.

“Chelsea,” Duncan repeated. “She’d like some lessons in self defence and I thought you’d be the perfect instructor.” He informed Amei, not noticing the look of disappointment that crossed Chelsea’s face. “I’ll leave you two to it.” As he turned to leave, he whispered in Amei’s ear, “Don’t be too rough on her.” He joked. She gave him a quick jab in the ribs. Chelsea watched jealously and found herself wondering what kind of relationship this person had with her hero.

Amei turned to the girl. She seemed rather out of shape, but if she was willing to learn she could get her street-smart in no time. “So, when would you like to start?”

“Isn’t he going to teach me?” Asked Chelsea as she watched with dismay, her idol leaving.

“Who? Duncan?” Asked Amei as she followed Chelsea’s gaze across the room. She shook her head. “This is a private club. He only teaches black belts. I get the beginners...” She tried to make eye contact with the girl, who was looking downcast. “You are a beginner, aren’t you?”

“No...I mean...” stammered Chelsea, flustered, “I need to think about this...Sorry.” Disappointed, she turned and left quickly, leaving Amei standing alone. Shrugging her shoulders, she went back into the Dojo.

“I think I lost a client for you this morning,” Amei called down to Duncan as they climbed the stairs to his apartment. She had changed out of her gym clothes and was wearing a large oversized black shirt with short sleeves as a dress, accompanied by black leggings. In her hand she carried leftovers from the meal they had at the local Chinese restaurant. “That girl...what was her name?” She leaned on the banister.

“Chelsea,” Duncan replied as he squeezed past her to unlock the door.’’

“Right...Chelsea.” Amei repeated, unimpressed. “Well, I think she wanted private lessons and not from me, if you know what I mean.”

“Why, whatever are you implying?” Duncan asked, innocently.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Amei responded. “What is it about you Duncan MacLeod, that makes women fall madly in love with you at first sight?”

“I learn from you.” He quipped as he let her in.

“Yeah, right!” She sniffed contemptuously.

“Besides, it wasn’t the first time I saw her.” He admitted.

“Really? What do you mean?”

“I met her last night,” explained Duncan, plainly. “Some boys attacked her, and I...”

“Defended her honour.” Amei concluded, now fully understanding the situation. “I see...her Knight in Shining Armour.”

Duncan shrugged, took off his coat and sat down at the coffee table. “It’s your move next,” he told her, changing the subject.

Amei looked over at the chess game laid out from the previous night. “Rook to Bishop Four.” She called from the kitchen counter.

Duncan looked at the board with puzzlement. “What will that do?”

“Nothing, but it sounds like I know what I’m doing.” She began to put away the food. “I love these little cartons.”

“That’s not the point,” Duncan protested, “the object of the game is to conquer my men.”

“Fine.” Amei strode over to the coffee table and placed her Queen down. “Check and mate in two moves.”

“No...”

“Yes it is, if your Queen takes mine.” She showed him.

“You’re supposed to defend your King, not help me!” Exclaimed Duncan now fully frustrated.

“What difference does it make if you take me in two moves or in five?” Answered Amei, heading back to the counter. “The writing’s on the wall...Either way, you always win.”

“Do you always give up that easily?” 

Amei turned to Duncan seriously for a moment. “Not if it’s important. No...never.” She looked at the last container in her hand. “You know,” she mused, “I’m sure I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“You tend to get that way with Chinese food.” Duncan replied, finishing the game off himself.

“You know as well as I do, this isn’t real Chinese food.” Amei reminded him as she put the carton away.

“Then why do you eat it?” 

“Because it tastes great! It’s kinda like...party food!” She opened a cupboard. “Speaking of party food, do you have any munchies?”

“I don’t eat junk food.”

“Of course not.” She remarked, “Well, I do, and I’m going to the corner store to pick some up.” She closed the cupboard. “You want anything?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Duncan asked as he took her King. “It’s getting dark outside. Maybe I should go with you.”

Amei raised an eyebrow as she thought. “I’ll tell you what. There’s a movie on at nine o’clock that I want to watch. That gives me ten minutes to get there, ten minutes at the till, and ten minutes to get back. If I’m not back by the time the movie starts, come after me. O.K?” She asked half seriously.

“You got it.” Duncan confirmed. He set up the chess board again as Amei took off down the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

Amei whistled as she walked through the alleyway and casually kicked a pebble from the sidewalk. It was quiet, almost too quiet. The sound of the pebble echoed through the alley. When it stopped, Amei thought she heard something else. It was like the rustle of newspapers in the wind, where there was no wind. With the corner of her eye she saw a shadow move. Her hands quickly came out of her pockets and she started whistling softer, beginning to wish she had let Duncan come with her after all. 

The lamp light in the middle of the alleyway flickered and turned on as twilight fell. This was a deceptively comforting sign. Just as she reached the lamp post, a figure appeared underneath it. It was Slash. “That’s a nice tune. What is it?” He asked her, menacingly.

“I don’t know,” Answered Amei cautiously, as her eyes flickered up and down, quickly measuring him up. “I just made it up.” She tried to move over and continue on her way, but a boy with a broken arm blocked her. “Excuse me, please.” She said trying not to sound frightened. The boy didn’t move. The cast was still clean and new, so Amei immediately estimated that a quick twist of the arm should incapacitate him. Not wanting to instigate a fight however, she turned back only to find two more behind her. She realized that she was surrounded. Her hands immediately became fists and she struggled to calm the panic overwhelming her body. Experience told her that it was never a good idea to display fear in these situations and was hoping it was not too late to talk her way out of it.

“What do we have here?” Slash asked as he reached over and took a hold of her necklace, pretending to admire the dragon. He looked beyond the sphere to the girl attached to it. Like reeling in a fish. Small and pretty, just the way he liked them. A nice catch. “What’s your hurry?” He asked as he pulled her, reluctantly, toward him. “We’ve got all night.” He held her closely with the other arm and tried to kiss her. Angrily, Amei pushed against him with both hands, palms open, into the ribs, and nimbly twisted her head, freeing herself from the necklace. She raised her knee to his groin, but he was holding her too close. Still, she managed to give him a good whack to the inner thigh and brought her foot down onto his, hard. He yelled obscenities, and dropped the necklace as she buffeted his face between her fist and elbow. 

She turned and ran, only to be attacked by the two boys behind her. They each had an arm around her waist and sandwiched her between them. Amei elbowed the one to her left in the head and sidekicked the one on her right in the shin. They all fell to the ground. Amei scrambled up but one of the boys held on to her leg and she landed on the ground again with a thud. Before she could regain her senses, Crackerjack grabbed her and together with the boy with the broken arm, pulled her into the loading dock.

“What do you want?” She demanded as bravely as she could. He could hear her voice shake. “Is it money? You can take anything I have.” She already suspected that they weren’t after money, but she wasn’t prepared for what Slash said next.

“Thank you, we will.” He assured her. “But first we have a score to settle with your boyfriend. He took something from us yesterday, and you’re going to give it back to us.” 

“My boyfriend?” Amei was confused, and almost relieved. “You must have the wrong person.” She told them, certain now that this was a case of mistaken identity. 

“I don’t think so,” Slash moved closer to her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of gum, “I want to see what you can do for candy.”

Amei looked at him with disbelief. “Can...dy,” she repeated, horrified. Her face fell as she suddenly realized they had obviously overheard her conversation with Duncan the other day. She felt a hot flush as the adrenaline overtook her body and quickly backed away, only to be pinned from behind by Crackerjack. She twisted her body to the side and kicked in his kneecap. As he bent over in pain, she pulled him into the path of Slash’s kick, which was meant for her. Crackerjack groaned and let go, as she clasped both her hands together like a sledgehammer and came down with all her strength across his neck, sending him to the ground. Before Slash could move again, she skilfully executed a spinning back kick over Crackerjack’s body and plowed into his abdomen. This sent Slash reeling back into the wall behind him as she ran back through the loading dock. One of the boys grabbed her right arm as she fled, turning her around. She counter grabbed, body checking her shoulder into his elbow forcefully. As it cracked, she raised it over her head, twisting his body over and kicked him in the oesophagus. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath. The boy with the broken arm tried to tackle her. She boxed his ears as he ran up and kneed him in the chest. He stood unsteadily for a moment and then noticed that she had grabbed a hold his broken arm. He stared at her wildly and fearfully shook his head, realizing what she had in store for him. Amei stared him right back into his eyes mercilessly, grimaced, and twisted the arm with all her strength. With a mighty jolt of pain, he felt his arm dislocate within the cast and fell, writhing on the ground, screaming.

The pathway out of the loading dock was now clear. As she reached the opening, a large figure appeared from nowhere. She ran right into the huge, immovable body trying unsuccessfully to fight it, but her punches had no effect. It scooped her up like she was a toy with one, gigantic, muscle-bound arm. The other grasped her left arm like a vice, holding her in place. “Let go of me you Cretan!” She yelled at him. Dangling from the side of the massive giant, Amei could only flail her right arm and legs around helplessly as he brought her back and dropped her in front of Slash.

Slash smiled and nodded to Crackerjack, who again pinned Amei’s arms above her on the ground. Two other boys held her legs. As they stripped her, Slash tried to goad the big guy on, “C’mon, Toro,” he said, “She’s just waiting for it. Why don’t you show her how much better you are than her boyfriend?” He cracked a cruel smile. “You can see the bitch wants it.”

Amei felt her cheeks burn with outrage and embarrassment as she thrashed about on the ground furiously. It was no use. They had managed to remove most of her clothes. All she had left on was her shirt. Toro looked at her and fearfully shook his head. He had already begun to regret capturing her and bringing her to this fate. It was all a game before but seeing her like that helpless, vulnerable, and totally at Slash’s mercy, made him almost sick inside. He backed away. Slash, realizing he was getting nowhere, turned to his brother. Crackerjack just shook his head. “She bashed in my knee pretty good, Slash.” He winced in pain as Amei wrenched up toward him. “I don’t think I can do it.”

Slash looked at the other boys holding on. They all avoided his gaze. Undaunted, he knelt down between her legs. She stopped struggling for a moment and glowered at him. He observed her breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down under the black shirt, perspiration starting to matt her hair. Like a wild animal waiting to be tamed. “I guess it’s just you and me.” He told her. Their eyes locked. Her gaze fixed on him stubbornly, hatred seething in her icy glare. 

He took out his switchblade and slowly cut off each button on her shirt. She groaned as he reached in and grabbed her breast. His hand slowly caressed down her now fully uncovered torso. He was not gentle. He explored his prize possessively, showing her exactly what he would do to her. All her muscles were tense with resistance, inadvertently displaying to him the firmness of her body. “No!” She cried out angrily, but he had no intention of letting her go. There would be no compromise. He would take what he wanted. He savoured the moment, letting his hand linger where he knew it was the most uncomfortable for her, exposing her to the others, hoping to change their minds. His touch shamed Amei, violating her. Not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her distress, she stubbornly fought back the tears.

“Relax Baby,” he cooed malevolently, “We’ve got all night.” He laughed as one of the boys holding her ran his hand down her inner thigh, licking his lips like an animal just about to devour its’ kill. Panicking, Amei fought as much as she could, straining painfully to break free, but to no avail. To keep her still, Slash pressed is body down against hers. Underneath him, he could feel her body trembling, but this time it was different. She wasn’t afraid, she was trembling with anger. 

“Get off of me! She growled. “Get off of me, you Son of a...” She yelled in his ear as she bucked against him. Slash put his hand over her mouth to silence her as he undid his pants. She forced open her mouth, managing to find a finger between her teeth. She bit down, hard. Outraged, Slash howled in pain. Her punishment was swift and brutal. He picked up his fist and drove it into the left side of her face. Amei saw stars for a moment, as her head reeled from the blow. Then, she felt his fingers wrap around her neck, choking her. As she struggled for breath, he forcibly entered her, jolting her body like an electric shock. Her fury began to rise again as he took his satisfaction. She was helpless to stop him as he thrust, deep inside of her, his victory. The blood rushed to her head and she could feel herself going weak and starting to lose consciousness.

She was finally starting to cooperate, thought Slash, as he felt her body succumb. This whole experience hadn’t been what he expected from the start. Instead of fear, he encountered fury. Instead of pleading, he found himself on the receiving end of kicks and blows. Instead of submissiveness, he experienced defiance. But no matter how feisty she was or how bravely she fought, he was determined to get his sweet revenge. With a groan of satisfaction, he spent himself before she passed out. 

As his hands released Amei’s throat, the throbbing in her temples subsided and she quickly regained her senses. The boy on her left relaxed his grip on her, thinking it was over. He was next. As Slash began to withdraw Amei easily wrenched herself free, slipped her leg under him and drove her knee into his groin, ruining his pleasure.

The pain was insufferable. Instantly his wrath ignited. He bellowed, and with a visceral flash of fury, took his revenge. Almost without thinking, he grabbed the switchblade he had placed on the ground beside him and plunged it into her chest. 

Paralyzed by the sudden shock of unfathomable pain, all Amei could do was let out a terrible scream of anguish. 

Crackerjack looked up at his brother horrified and let go of the girl. She turned over and tried to get away, but Slash struck again, stabbing her a second time, under her shoulder blade. Amei felt her back split open and the punishing burn of metal ripping through her flesh. There was a strange tickle from the warmth of her blood as it flowed from her body and formed a puddle, cooling on the concrete below.

Slash rendered one last blow. Like a fang of a wild animal, the sharp blade bit though her left side, puncturing her lung. Blood quickly replaced air and Amei started to choke as she fought for breath. Instinctively, she reached behind her, grasping for the knife, in an attempt to relieve some of the agony.

“Jesus Christ, Slash!” Shouted Crackerjack in disbelief, as his brother pulled the knife out of the body. “Stop it!” He struggled onto his good knee and grabbed Slash’s blood splattered arm. “You’ve murdered her!”

Slash hesitated, suddenly coming to his senses. “She deserved it.” He said coldly, zipping up his pants.

“You’ve gone too far this time.” Crackerjack told him. “We’ve gotta get out of town ‘till this thing blows over!” He tried to pull his brother away from the body.

In the back of her throat Amei could taste the salty blood as it filled up and trickled out the sides of her mouth. Her senses grew numb, causing her arms to give way under her and the arguing voices began to sound farther away as everything turned grey, and then black.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Duncan looked up from his book as the familiar strain of the nine o’clock movie sounded from the television set. He glanced toward the door, almost expecting Amei to come rushing in out of breath, with her groceries but no one appeared. Something was wrong. Amei was usually true to her word. He put down the book and decided to go looking for her. 

As he stepped out of the door, his keen eye scanned the alleyway hoping to see Amei, and caught a gleam coming from under the lamp in the middle of the street. He walked over to it and picked up the object. It was Amei’s necklace. Her good luck charm.

Alarmed, he bolted through the alleyway, trying to sense her, finally stopping in front of the same loading dock as he did the previous night. From the dark shadows in back, he could see figures moving. More importantly, although weak he could feel Amei’s presence.

He ran up, only to be body checked and thrown into the wall by Toro. As he was preoccupied with the Neanderthal, most of the others fled. Wanting to avoid another conflict, one of them limped away.

“Let’s go Slash,” Crackerjack alerted his brother, tapping him on the shoulder.

Slash turned from what seemed to be a body and smirked at Duncan, the bloody knife still grasped in his hand. “I told you not to mess with me.” He called out to Duncan as he and his brother took off.

Duncan elbowed the big boy’s face, who seemed to look at him with a sorrowful expression, not unlike the look a hangman gives the condemned just before the noose is placed around his neck, and pushed him away with one swift blow against his chest. He easily ducked the half-hearted punch the boy delivered, driving his fist into his back. To his surprise, Toro kept pulling away with the force of the blow, propelling himself away from him, running through the loading dock after the others. Duncan found himself alone.

Apprehensively he moved toward the twisted, lifeless body. It was Amei. She was lying face down and he observed two deep gashes, glistening red, on her back. Her face was mostly covered by her hair, but through the unruly strands, he saw blood trickling from her mouth. 

With a tortured, primal cry, he fought the urge to race after the boys and execute his own justice, but retained enough sense to realize that he couldn’t leave Amei there to be found by mortals. As he knelt over her body, his eyes burned as he resisted the tears that fought to liberate themselves. He took off his long overcoat, covering her naked corpse, and gently picked her up in his arms.

He carried her home.

Duncan tenderly laid Amei down on his bed. Her lifeless body sank into the mattress. Affectionately he brushed her hair aside and pulled the covers over her. Then he went into the bathroom almost in a daze, took out a facecloth and turned on the hot water. His knuckles turned white as he angrily twisted the excess water from the cloth. His rage was quickly overcome with guilt. If only he had been there to protect her. 

Returning to her side, he carefully washed the dirt and blood from her tear stained face, a reminder of the terrible ordeal that occurred only moments ago. Pulling a chair over he sat down. As he waited, his thoughts returned to three hundred years ago when he first took her from her homeland, and the promise he had made to her.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

It took over a week of perilous travel from the mission in China to reach the coast and the ship that awaited them, a weatherbeaten Dutch merchant ship that delivered supplies and goods to all the Asian ports. Its’ hull was encased in barnacles, as it was not regularly serviced and a few of the brass fixtures fastening the ropes were broken off. One of the canvas sails had been torn and patched repeatedly and it was badly in need of paint. Even the mermaid adorning its’ bow was faded. Certainly not a craft worthy of a General, but Duncan didn’t seem to notice. He watched the breeze forcing the sails to billow with contentment. The smell of the sea brought back many happy memories and its’ allure still held a fascination for him.

Amei gazed at the vast expanse with amazement. She had seen lakes and ponds before, but nothing like this, water that moved like a breathing, living entity. The waves pounded against the ocean walls relentlessly, with a loud roar that told her of its’ power. The thought of crossing such a monster was a terrifying notion indeed. The ship rocked ominously as they walked up the slippery gangplank, but Duncan’s confident air soothed some of her misgivings.

They were greeted by the Captain of the vessel, a large, burly man with scruffy blonde hair and a mangy beard, who reeked of smoke and seaweed. He wore remnants of an ill-fitting uniform that told of more profitable days. All that was left was a tattered jacket and soiled hat, Duncan suspected was only worn to greet passengers which rarely embarked on the vessel. He shook his hand firmly and they moved to a secluded area of the ship to conduct their business. 

Amei looked tentatively over the edge. The rough water lapping under them seemed to her like a bottomless pit, ready to swallow anything within its’ reach. She started to feel excitement rising in her at the thought of conquering such a beast, and riding it to the end of the world.

And ride it they did, across the Sea of Japan. The first day of the journey was far worse than anything Amei could have imagined. As soon as the ship left the harbour, Duncan had acquired his ‘sea legs’, but Amei on the other hand, had never experienced sea travel and she felt every pitch and sway of the ship. She clung on to the mast, in hopes of supporting her legs, which seemed to have lost their ability to hold her up. As the ship lurched, so did her stomach. Even closing her eyes seemed to accentuate the movement of every wave that crashed upon its’ hull. She vainly wished it would stop and relieve her of this misery, but the vessel kept driving on ceaselessly.

When it was time or the evening meal, she somehow made it down to the galley and sat down beside Duncan, feeling hot and flushed. It was all she could do to contain herself. She gripped the table desperately. Duncan could see that she was shaking. “Are you alright?” He whispered in her ear. Even his voice, which was usually so calming and the feel of his warm breath tickling against her cheek irritated her. Bravely, she gritted her teeth, swallowed hard, and nodded. Her eyes opened in horror as the meal arrived at the table. The sight of the stringy salt pork was not exactly appetizing and the smell of the food made her want to vomit. Duncan could plainly see her distress, “Go outside.” He instructed.

Amei needed no more encouragement. Quickly she jumped away from the table and made her way back up to the deck, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she heard the men howling with laughter behind her. She almost hurled herself over the railing in her desperation and threw up. Alone and miserable, she retched until she swore her insides were coming out. The biting cold of the sea winds chilled her body, as she buried her head in her arms, sobbing with each heave.

Seemingly endless moments later, Amei felt a soothing hand on her forehead. It was Duncan. Gratefully, she clung to his arm. He gently caressed her back as she cried. Not a word passed between them, but just his presence and his touch was a great comfort. “It’s alright,” he finally said to her, “I’m here.” He helped her back to the cabin.

“I’m sorry...” she mumbled, as he held her up firmly. “I didn’t want to be trouble for you.” They entered their room, a small, dusty hovel with two wooden cots. 

“You will never be trouble for me.” He assured her. “Whenever you need me, all you need do is ask.”

Amei looked up at him, wonderingly.

“I’m taking you from your homeland,” Duncan explained, “Therefore, I’m responsible for you.” He lay her down on the cot. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

Amei grasped is hand thankfully. Suddenly, she jumped from the bed. “Whoever said Immortals never get sick, lied!” She managed to blurt out before she ran out of the room. 

Duncan couldn’t help but laugh. “You should see it when it gets rough!” He called after her.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

As the life rushed back into her body, Amei let out a gasp of pain, the stabbing knife still fresh in her mind. With her eyes tightly closed she sat up, coughing out the rest of the blood from her lungs, each jolt pulling on the wounds, persistently reminding her of their existence. Duncan quickly sat beside her on the bed. When she opened her eyes, he was the first thing she saw. As she clung to him with thankfulness and relief, he could feel the dampness of her hot tears on his shoulder, soaking through his shirt.  
He let her cry for a while as the fear, and pain, and anger overwhelmed her. “Do you want to be alone?” He finally asked. Amei looked up with tearful, swollen eyes and adamantly shook her head. She needed him, desperately. He put his strong hand behind her head, drawing her to his chest and gently kissed her hair. “Move over.” He whispered. Amei made room for him, and he lay down beside her on the bed. She slept restlessly there in his arms, throughout the night.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Amei stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror with disbelief. She had awakened stiff and sore and all her muscles hurt. Painfully, her bruised ribs ached with every trepidatious breath she took. She turned her head from side to side apprehensively, her hand carefully brushing the lacerations on her neck. On her cheek was a large bruise, still purple at the point of impact, but already displaying the greenish hue around it that always appeared just before the bruise disappeared. The same marks covered the inside of her lower arms, where she had blocked blows from the previous night. She could plainly see the wound on her chest now also almost healed.

A feeling of exasperation overwhelmed her as she surveyed, in her opinion, the most savage damage which seemed to be on her upper arms. The bruises were still black where THEY pinned her down.

Amei turned away from the mirror disheartened, and faced the bathtub. Pushing aside the curtain she turned on the shower, and without bothering to check the temperature of the water stepped in. 

The falling water felt good on her aching muscles. Cleansing. The hot liquid stung her wounds fleetingly as she felt the pain ebb and then swiftly, mercifully, subside. Reaching below her to the faucet and turning down the cold water, again she let the pain ebb, and then subside. She grit her teeth as the hot water increased and cascaded down her back until she could no longer hold her head under the punishing onslaught and rested it on the tiles beneath the shower head. 

She turned the tap more, and let out an involuntary gasp as the scalding water fell on her back. Crimson lines burned their way over her shoulders as small streams trickled over her wounds. Her back started to turn red, but Amei would not give in to the assault, and kept turning until the heat was almost unbearable. Sterilizing. As she started to perspire under the water, the steam rose around her until she could see nothing but hazy white clouds of mist. Anxiety tried to give in to the pain, but she would not submit to the pangs of fear. She was in control.

Just as Amei felt she could take no more, the water began to cool down. She had run out of hot water. It was as if some Divine power had intervened and decided that she had suffered enough. Quickly the sting of the heat subsided. Amei accepted the change almost with relief, letting out a choked sob yet she didn’t even contemplate turning off the water, which was rapidly cooling, until she heard a knock on the door and a familiar voice.

“Are you alright in there?” Duncan had become concerned when he saw billows of steam rising from under the bathroom door into the apartment, and decided to investigate.

“Just a minute.” Amei answered, spurred back into reality again. She turned off the water and emerged a moment later swallowed in Duncan’s white bathrobe, surrounded by a cloud of steam. The hem of the garment, which usually only reached Duncan’s calves, dragged on the ground as her still wet hair clung to her head. Looking as miserable as a drowned puppy, she sat down on the stool by the kitchen counter to watch Duncan making French Toast.

Duncan could feel a gust of heat coming from the bathroom as Amei approached him. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, the large bruise on the left side of her face still plainly visible. He regarded her, intently. “Do you want some breakfast?” He asked carefully.

Amei sensed the caution in his voice. This was an awkward moment. When she awoke that morning, he had already left her side and was busying himself in the kitchen. Now, it looked like he had made enough breakfast for eight people. It was amazing what one could do with stale French bread and a few eggs. She shook her head, silently wondering to herself if she would ever feel hungry again. “Maybe a coffee first.” She suggested, feeling slightly obligated.

Duncan shovelled the last two pieces of French Toast onto the large platter with the others. As he did so, something jingled in his right pants pocket. He reached in and handed the contents to her. “I found this.” He said and turned to pour her a cup of coffee. 

“Some good luck charm, huh?” She mused, staring at her necklace. “I guess you get what you pay for.”

Duncan smiled sympathetically trying to ease the tension as he handed Amei her coffee. His smile immediately disappeared when Amei reached for the cup and the oversized sleeves of Duncan’s bathrobe tumbled down, exposing large bruises on her upper arms. She noticed his face change, and promptly hid her arms again, but it was too late. Unable to bear the hurt look in his eyes, Amei turned away.

Mistaking the action for disappointment, Duncan felt compelled to vocalize what had been eating at his conscience all morning, and broke the uneasy silence. “I should have been there.” He told her gruffly.

Amei regarded him. “I should have let you come with me.” She admitted. “I guess I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

“No. Those boys were after me.” Duncan explained to her. “They were the same ones from the other night.”

“I gathered as much.” Amei responded, dryly.

“I should have taken their threats more seriously.”

Amei shook her head. “You couldn’t have known.”

“But what if you had been mortal?” He persisted. “I would have lost you, too.” He held her in his arms as she sat on the stool. Her hair was still damp, and he cold feel the warmth of her body through the bathrobe.

Amei held onto his arm reassuringly, and let him have a moment to contemplate. Then she answered him truthfully. “I think, when you know you can’t die, you tend to take more chances than you should. You can’t keep taking responsibility for everything that happens to me.” Her voice broke with emotion. “I have a knack for getting into trouble.”

“Trouble came looking or you this time.” He insisted, refusing to be rational, stubbornly nursing his anger.

She shook her head. “But this time I couldn’t talk my way out of it.”

“You shouldn’t have had to try to talk yourself out of it.” Duncan pressed on, embittered. “You shouldn’t have been in danger at all. They were after me.” He started to draw away, enraged. “You had nothing to do with it.”

“No, Duncan.” Amei protested. She could hear the exasperation in his voice as his body stiffened against her, and tried to hold him back. 

He pushed her aside, disregarding her. “If they want me, they’ve got me.” He announce as he moved toward the door. 

Amei stood up. “Let me go with you.” She urged, her fear for his wellbeing mounting.

Duncan held her by the shoulders. “No. You’ve been through enough. You should stay put.” Hurriedly grabbing his coat, he darted out the door.

Amei ran after him. “Duncan, come back!” She called out. The door slammed in her face. “Why must you always feel responsible?” She moaned as she hit the door and turned around. 

Duncan’s metal spatula gleaming on the kitchen counter caught her eye, and her thoughts raced to another time.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Duncan’s samurai sword gleamed as Amei practised her kata. The massive weapon seemed even more so in her delicate hands. Her kimono gently swayed with the motions as she moved it aside, checking her stance regularly.

Because she was engrossed in total concentration, she didn’t notice the two men who had just arrived on Duncan’s doorstep to pay him a visit. In horror, they watched her skilfully mastering the forbidden weapon. They did not take in regard the beauty of her moves when she handled the sword with perfection, as Duncan had taught her, seeing only the insolence of her actions. 

Suddenly bursting in without warning, they immediately overtook Amei by surprise, forcing her the ground. With his Obi, Councilman Umeko tied her hands behind her back making her kneel and pinned her head to the ground with his foot. Councilman Tanaka then took the sword and positioned it above her neck. “Who has been teaching you the secrets of the Samurai?” He demanded of her.

Speechless with fear, Amei did not have a chance to utter a word, not that she would have told them anything. Fortunately at that moment, Duncan appeared at the doorway. “Stop!” He cried out.

“What is the meaning of this?” Councilman Tanaka asked Duncan as he thrust the sword in front of him, angrily.

“It was my fault, I left the sword out,” Answered Duncan, taking responsibility, “She must have found it.”

“A woman should never touch a samurai’s weapon.” Declared Councilman Umeko. “The penalty is death!” Councilman Tanaka raised the sword over Amei’s head once again. 

“No!” Cried Duncan, as he reached for the blade. “She was only playing with it. If anyone is to be punished, it should be me.”

“P-please, Umeko-San,” a small voice pleaded, “I-I only wanted to make the f-fairies dance,”

The councilmen stopped and stared at Amei, puzzled.

“Like that...”. Amei indicated with her head as well as she old under the restraint. The reflection of Duncan’s sword shone against the wall. “My b-brother can make the f-fairies dance across the room,” she said innocently. “I wanted t-to do it, too. W-was it wrong?” She asked Duncan.

Duncan took the cue immediately. “My little sister is simple.” He explained to the councilmen. “When her mother died, I promised to take care of her because she doesn’t understand.” He added. “She meant no harm.”

The two men looked down with pity at the trembling girl, and then at each other. “I will overlook it this time, but make sure you keep your weapons away from now on.” Said councilman Tanaka, gruffly, handing Duncan back his sword. 

Councilman Umeko let Amei go. “You’d better make sure he understands.” He warned Duncan. The two men got up, leaving Amei on the floor. She almost fainted with relief.

“Thank you, Umeko-San, I will.” Duncan assured him gratefully, as he saw them to the door.

“There is a council meeting tonight at the hall,” Councilman Tanaka told Duncan, suddenly remembering why they had stopped by in the first place, “You will be there?”

“Of course Tanaka-San, I will.” Duncan replied. They bowed to each other as he let them out.

“Keep her under control.” Recommended Umeko. The three men laughed, as Duncan shut the screen door.

“Arrigato,” He called after them.

Amei heaved a great sigh of relief. “That was too close.” She said as soon as they were gone. Duncan knelt down beside her. “Please untie me, Duncan, please...” she implored after a few moments. He was taking a long time and she was afraid he was thinking of leaving her there like that.

Duncan started to smile. “Fairies dancing,” He chuckled and fell on the floor for several minutes overcome with laughter.

Still bound, Amei could only watch him helplessly.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

The sleek, black Thunderbird sat in the alleyway, with the radio playing loudly, unattended. The boy with the broken arm walked casually closer, peering at the dash. The keys were still in the ignition. Unable to resist the temptation, he quickly looked around and opened the car door. Suddenly, from the shadows a figure attacked him from behind, slamming the door into his leg. Crippled from the blow, the boy cried out as the large body crushed him against the siding and an iron grasp clamped around his throat. “Where’s Slash?” Duncan demanded.

“I don’t know!” The boy foolishly protested. Duncan bent the boy farther down over the side of the car and grasped his broken arm with the other hand. “No...no! Not the arm!” The boy wailed. “Wait! I’ll tell you!” Duncan let the boy up again. “They’re trying to get out of town, but first they have to score some big money.” He divulged. “They’re gonna knock off the First National Bank on Fourth Ave. I told them I wanted to have no part in it.” Duncan kept holding him tightly. “It’s the truth! Honest!” 

“Are they there, now?”

“No, first they have to get some rods and wheels. They figured they’d hit the bank at four o’clock, just before it closes.”

“Thanks.” Duncan dropped the boy, who fell writhing to the ground, as he opened the door of his car and got in. “I’d seek medical attention for that leg, if I were you.” He advised as he drove away.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Amei danced around the punching bag, striking it with her bare fists, wearing shorts and a ripped up tee-shirt. Putting her hair into a ponytail at the back, she had begun working out in the Dojo for the past half hour. Originally starting out practising her kicking, with each blow her frustration mounted and before she knew it, she was punching and kicking the bag angrily, without bothering to put on her gloves. As the pain in her hands intensified, so did her rage.

Charlie came out of the change room with his street clothes on and his gear in a gym bag, packed up and ready to go home. He saw Amei and headed over to her to apologize for his behaviour the other day.

“Amei, I’m sorry...” he started. Amei looked up. He could see a large bruise on the left side of her face. “Now that’s what I call a real shiner! Boy, I’d hate to see the other guy!” He joked.

Amei, not in the mood for jokes, glared at him. “I lost.” She said, and resumed her workout.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Charlie tried to stop her. “Beating yourself up isn’t going to make things any better. You know, between you and me, I’ve lost a few bouts, myself.”

She didn’t believe him. “You, Charlie?” 

“Sure,” he said, “Don’t tell anyone. I mean, it doesn’t happen very often, but once or twice I’ve gotten pounded.” Amei observed him with scepticism. “It’s true.” He stated adamantly. “Ask your friend MacLeod. The first time I met him, he flattened me!”

Amei laughed, feeling a little better. 

Charlie looked at her hands. They were raw and bruised from striking the bag. He clucked his tongue sympathetically, “You’re turning your fists into hamburger,” he said as he led Amei reluctantly from the floor and sat her down on the bench. “Let me put something on them.” 

“I’m fine, Charlie, really.” She protested, as she watched him go into Duncan’s office.

He returned with the first aid kit, “Take care of your body, and it’ll take care of you. Right now, you couldn’t take care of a kitten.” He opened the kit and applied disinfectant on her wound. “Look, Amei, I’m sorry about blowing up the other day,” Charlie said as he bandaged her hands, “I guess I lost my head.”

Amei automatically felt her neck. “Well, we’re all bound to, eventually.” She mused, as the personal significance of the remark escaped him.

“I guess I didn’t make a very good first impression.” He grinned.

Amei shrugged. “You’re more than making up for it now.” She replied.

Charlie put the finishing touches on the wrap. “Now the next time you go at it, remember the importance of proper equipment.” He jokingly reprimanded.

“Thanks, Charlie.” Amei smiled kissed him on the cheek just as Chelsea walked in.

Chelsea stood at the door, embarrassed, “Oh, excuse me,” she stammered.

Charlie pulled away from Amei’s embrace. “That’s ok, how can I help you?” He asked as he stood up.

Chelsea watched Amei roll her eyes and sulk on the bench. “I-is Duncan MacLeod here?” She asked.

“He hasn’t been here all afternoon,” Charlie answered, “can I give him a message?”

“No, that’s OK. I’ll come back later.” Chelsea replied, leaving as quickly as she had appeared. Charlie stood at the door and turned to Amei, with a look of bewilderment. 

Amei shrugged her shoulders. “She keeps doing that all the time.” She told him.  
_____________________________________________________________________________


	5. Chapter 5

Toro pulled the stolen car in front of the bank as Slash and Crackerjack jumped out, adjusting their ski masks. “You ready?” Slash asked his brother as he took the safety off his pistol. Crackerjack nodded and followed his brother, still limping, into the bank.  
Duncan observed them unnoticed, from across the street. Moments later, an alarm sounded and Slash ran out of the bank with a bag full of money, Crackerjack close behind with a similar bag. As they headed toward the getaway car, checking behind them for security guards, Duncan stepped into their path. Slash saw him at the last moment and fired his pistol at him, without aiming.  
Duncan grabbed the arm and punched Slash in the face. As Slash staggered from the blow, Duncan turned, wrapped his arm around his neck, and threw him to the ground. 

Crackerjack then pointed his firearm at the man, but Duncan easily disarmed him with one swift kick. Then he pivoted and kicked in his knee, finally sending him down with two karate chops together, one in the kidney, and one in the neck. Crackerjack landed on the ground with a thud. Duncan spun around and delivered a roundhouse into Slash, who managed to stand up temporarily. Slash buckled over in pain. Duncan grabbed him by the shoulders and stood him up again, only to send him reeling back with a punch in the jaw. Venting his anger he punched him again with a returning back fist, jabbed him in the stomach, and gave him a swift upper cut, forcing his ski mask to fly off.

Crackerjack managed to regain possession of his gun and tried to aim it at the man, just as police sirens wailed to a halt behind him. “Police! Drop your weapon!” A loud voice announced over the dispatch. “Stop or we’ll fire!” Crackerjack reeled around, the gun still pointed, to face the voice. The police thinking the were under attack fired. Duncan turned at the sound, just in time to see Crackerjack lurch back as the bullets penetrated his chest. 

Slash staggered forward a few steps in anguish and reached out for his brother. He watched with horror as his brother fell on the ground, his eyes fixed in an unearthly stare. Blood saturated the mask, outlining a wound from a bullet lodged in his forehead. “No!” Slash cried. His grief lasted only seconds, as he realized the police revolvers were now aimed at him. Quickly he turned around and rapidly made his way from the scene. 

Everything was a blur. A nightmare. He raced down the block and into the alley, searching for escape. Duncan turned back to see Slash fleeing down the street. He chased after him through the alleyway, in and out of a parking lot and over some dividers, until they found themselves at the base of a railway overpass. He grabbed Slash’s leg as he tried to climb the metal scaffolding up to the main platform of the overpass, and freedom. Slash kicked at him ferociously and managed to strike the man’s head a couple of times before he dragged him off the structure. “Your girlfriend got what she deserved last night,” he bragged to Duncan, trying to anger him into making a mistake. “It’s too bad I had to kill her. She was really into me.” He gloated. “She said I was the best.”

Duncan felt his anger flare. Hearing Slash say those lies about Amei infuriated him. He was ready to kill him with his bare hands. Just before Duncan seized him and pushed him into the structure behind them, Slash saw the police appear behind the man. With his concentration broken for a moment, Duncan quickly pinned Slash’s arm with the gun down and pounded it against the wall, trying to make him break his hold. Slash wrenched his arm free and managed to clobber the man’s head with the side of the gun, but the awkward angle and the impact of Duncan trying to block the blow forced him to drop it.  
He turned and climbed the scaffolding again. Duncan dropped to the ground and by the time he struggled back to his feet, Slash was halfway up the bridge, out of reach. Duncan had no choice but to follow him up the structure. Once at the top of the overpass, Slash was waiting for him and tried to kick him off again. Duncan grabbed his leg and he fell to the ground, grasping for the railroad tracks to kept from falling off. Duncan used Slash’s leg to pull himself up onto the platform. Slash, holding on to the tracks, kicked the man desperately before he could jump on top of him. Duncan ducked to the side and the two of them rolled dangerously close to the edge. Slash broke free and suddenly his switchblade materialized in his hand. He lunged at the man, who jumped out of his way. Slash grinned and lunged again at the unarmed man. Duncan blocked the blow by crossing both arms and milking the blade from Slash’s hand. Before the boy realized it, the switchblade was in the man’s hand. Slash’s arm received a deep gash from the knife. Stunned, Slash backed up, bleeding profusely from the wound on his right arm.  
He tripped over the railroad track behind him and tumbled over the edge of the bridge. Slash caught himself on the scaffolding three feet down, clinging on wildly. “Help me!” He implored. “I didn’t mean to kill her!” Cowardly, he cried, “It was an accident. I only meant to scare her!”

Duncan threw the knife away and knelt down. Hesitating for a moment, he looked around. The police were in position, and were just starting to climb the structure. There was nothing they could do. It was up to him. His first impulse was to pry the boy’s hands from the steel bar himself and watch him fall to his death, but he pushed the thought from his mind. Against his better judgement, Duncan reached down to Slash. “Grab my hand.” He shouted to him.

Slash clawed at the hand desperately. He was hanging on to the scaffolding with his left hand, so he could only reach for the man with his wounded arm. “You’re too far away!” He cried.

Duncan reached down further, and grabbed his hand. Slash was weak from the fight and loss of blood. Duncan felt his grip slip. “Hold on!” He called to the boy.

“I...can’t!” Was the reply. The bloody hand slipped from Duncan’s grasp and with a haunting scream, the boy plummeted to his death on the railroad tracks below. 

Slightly disoriented, Duncan stared futilely at the unnaturally twisted body as two policemen ran over to examine it.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Amei took a sip from the water bottle and wiped her forehead with the blue towel around her neck. Stepping out of Duncan’s office she turned off the light. Tossing her towel into her gym bag, she walked toward the front doors to lock them. She couldn’t resist striking the punching bag on her way by, hesitating a moment to watch the bag swing. Spontaneously she threw her bag down and executed a combination spinning side kick and backfist. Not pleased with her delivery she did it again, this time emitting a yell to release more power. Still not satisfied she spun to work it again, suddenly finding herself face to face with Chelsea, who had entered the room unnoticed. 

“Is he back yet?” Chesea asked, quietly.

God she’s persistent, Amei thought to herself. “No.” She answered, a little too curtly.

“When will he be back?” 

“I don’t know.” She turned to finished her move. “You’re not going to run away again, are you?”

Chelsea watched Amei enviously. She was beautiful. Powerful. Strong. Everything she wasn’t. With her toned muscles and exotic looks, she looked like she had just stepped out of a Frazetta painting. Chelsea immediately felt inferior. What chance did she have against her? She had everything. Chelsea suddenly had the desire to show her that she was special, too. “Duncan gave me this.” She heard herself say. Duncan. The sound of his name on her lips gave her a thrill. Ever since the night he rescued her, she could think of nothing but him. The man at the laundromat reminded her of him. His eyes were brown, like Duncan’s, but Duncan’s eyes were much more beautiful. The mailman reminded her of him. He had dark hair like Duncan’s, but Duncan’s hair seemed much softer. The man on T.V. had a smile like his. But Duncan’s smile was much more dazzling. She walked down the street with baited breath hoping that he would appear from around the corner and she could see him again. She knew what would happen. He would dazzle her with his smile and she would gaze into his beautiful eyes, and as she reached out to touch his soft hair, he would take her in his arms once again. He cared for her. Didn’t he save her life? Didn’t he give her this? She showed Amei the handkerchief. “I wanted to return it to him.” She told her. It was a sacrifice, but if it meant that she could see him once again, it would be worth it.

Amei looked at the handkerchief. Through the wrinkles she could make out the initials D.M.C. It was Duncan’s, alright. He had dozens of them. She saw them by the drawer when she put her stuff away the other day. “Why don’t you give it to me, and I’ll make sure he gets it when he comes home tonight?” She offered, as she started to remove the bandages that Charlie wrapped on her hand a couple of hours ago.

Chelsea’s face fell. “You live with him?” She agonized. She had everything. Now she had him, too. 

“For the time being.” Amie looked down at her hands, satisfied. They were completely healed.

What did she mean by ‘for the time being’? Wondered Chelsea. Was she about to leave him? Perhaps for that other guy she saw her with? Did she not know how wonderful he was? She was taking him for granted. Using him. Chelsea was infuriated. If I lived with him, she thought, I would never leave him. I would love him forever. I wouldn’t go around kissing other guys. Chelsea looked around the room quickly. How many other men did she have? She didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as Duncan. Chelsea saw the samurai swords hanging on the wall. As Amei bent down to put the bandages in her bag, Chelsea reached over and took one of the swords out. Amei reeled at the familiar grating sound of the sword leaving its’ sheath, just in time to see Chelsea swinging down at her. She grabbed her bag and managed to hold it in front of her. The bag absorbed the blow. Amei fell back as Chelsea swung again. “It’s not fair!” Chelsea cried, striking the floor where Amei was a second ago. “He means nothing to you!”

“What the...” Amei gasped as she scrambled to the bench in front of the office. Chelsea followed her and planted the sword in the bench. It stuck in for a few seconds. That was all the time Amei needed. She struck Chelsea with a downward blow just as she disengaged the sword and knocked the weapon out of her hand. 

Chelsea fell into a sobbing heap on the floor. “He’ll never look at me the way he looks at you!” She cried. “And you don’t even care about him!” Amei slid the sword away from her reach. “I would do anything for a man like him, but what chance do I have with someone like you around?” She wailed, feeling sorry for herself.

Amei could think of nothing else but to get rid of this deranged lunatic as fast as possible. “I think you’d better go home, now.” She said as she picked up her jacket, steered her toward the door and escorted her home.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________ 

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there,” Chelsea apologized for the fiftieth time as Amei walked her to the door of her apartment building. It was an old tumbled-down residence and the entrance was sandwiched between a Chinese restaurant and a pawn broker’s store. The doorway smelled of urine and no doubt drunks from the bar across the street passed out under its’ cover more often than not. “I..I don’t know what got into me. Sorry.” She apologized again. 

Amei was not about to overlook the incident so easily. “You know, that could be considered attempted murder in most states.” She mentioned casually, looking for a reaction.

“I know.” Chelsea replied, sheepishly. “Good thing no one got hurt.”

Amei frowned. This girl needed an intense reality check. Just as Chelsea put the key in the door, a large figure appeared on the sidewalk in front of them. It was red-faced and reeked of beer. “Where the Hell have you been all night?” He roared as he staggered closer. “I’ve been calling you. Been cattin’ around, I suppose.” He wore a light blue cowboy shirt, with stains where he spilled beer down the front. His jeans were a couple of sizes too small, squeezing his huge belly which amply rolled over his special bottle opener/belt buckle. Amei disliked him immediately. 

“Leave me alone, Wayne. I ain’t seeing you no more.” Chelsea went back to opening her door.

“Don’t you turn your back on me, you slut.” Wayne threatened. “You’ve been puttin’ out for some other dude all night, keepin’ me waiting. I want a piece of the action, too.” He grabbed for her.

Amei suddenly realized this was the kind of man Chelsea was used to. No class, alcoholic, beer guzzling male chauvinist pig. No wonder she was so enthralled with Duncan. He must have seemed like a gift from God. “Hey, hey.” Amei impulsively stepped between them. “She doesn’t want to be with you.” Amei pointed out.

“Outta my way, baby.” He put his hand on her shoulder to move her.

“Take your hand off me.” Amei said, firmly.

“You know, you’re not bad lookin’.” Wayne leered at Amei as he weaved unsteadily.

“Take your hand off me, PLEASE.” Amei stressed, giving him a chance to let go by himself.

Wayne ignored her demand. “Maybe you’d like to join us,” He loomed unsteadily closer. “Make it a threesome.”

Amei could smell his rancid breath. The mere thought repulsed her to no end. Her lip curled with disgust. No more chances. She pinned his hand down on her shoulder, placing her leg behind his, and with her right fist drove it into his nose. Following through the move, she plowed her arm into his shoulder, tripping him over her leg and sending him with a crash, onto the concrete. The wind rushed out of him as she knelt on his chest and cocked her fist where he could see it. “She wants to be left alone. Do I make myself clear?” She challenged. Chelsea watched in awe.

Wayne, suddenly sobering up, acknowledged with a zealous nod. Amei rose to let him up. Wayne crawled out of the way, checking out his bleeding nose. As he turned to leave, he looked at Chelsea. “I’ll come back when you get rid of your guard dog.” He told her.

They watched him stagger away, rubbing his chest painfully. “I think,” Chelsea said as he disappeared around the corner, “ it would be a good idea for me to take those self-defence classes after all.”

Amei nodded. “First class starts Monday, seven o’clock.” She invited. 

“I’ll be there.” Chelsea confirmed. She opened the door. “Thanks.” Turning and climbing up the stairs to her apartment, Amei could hear them creaking as the door closed and locked behind her. 

Amei took a deep breath. The air was cold and crisp. Across the street neon lights flashed and the bar was blaring out rock and roll music. Several motorcycles were parked out front. Amei stepped onto the road, drawn toward the sound.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Duncan stood at the bar entrance and looked around. It was as dark inside as it was outside. Only one or two people raised their heads as he walked by. The music was repetitively thumping out some sort of melody from the jukebox by the counter. Through the smoke he could see that the room was filled with brass poles and wooden tables, some on raised platforms along the outer edge. In the middle was the dance floor. Amei was in here somewhere. He could sense her. He scanned the area. From a back corner came her unmistakeable laugh. Following the sound he strolled through the almost empty dance floor, past some scruffy looking men and their equally scruffy women, until he stood in front of the table where Amei sat. She was laughing with some fellows that looked like they had a intimate relationship with the motorcycles parked outside. Bearded, leather-jacketed types. Some wore chains, and all had a multitude of tattoos. One or two even wore shirts. The others obviously didn’t bother to read the dress code posted at the entrance and the management wisely chose not to notice the oversight.

And there sat Amei in the midst of them, oblivious to the potential peril to life, limb and virtue that could present itself at any moment. Or was she?

Amei looked up at Duncan and wrinkled her nose. A large burly bald guy whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pushed him back good-naturedly. Duncan silently counted six empty beer bottles in front of her, and a half-full one still in her hand. “Do you want a ride home?” He asked. 

She glanced at his outstretched hand. “I’m having fun.” She said defiantly. The bald guy next to her put his Harley-Davidson cap on her head. She adjusted it a little and then looked up again. “Are you still here?” She asked rhetorically. “How did you find me?”

Duncan shrugged. “It wasn’t hard.” In truth, he had searched all the bars in the neighbourhood for her for the past hour. Fortunately, he only had to enter each establishment briefly for his senses to tell him if she was there or not.

“Why don’t you join us?” She giggled.

Duncan looked uneasily at the four guys still sitting at her table, very aware that there were another four, maybe more, lurking behind him ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble. “I don’t think so.” He answered. 

The husky bearded man on Amei’s left rose to his feet. “Too good for our company?” He asked with a distinct inebriated slur.

“Sit down, Bluto.” Amei ordered as she pulled his vest. He dropped back down with a thud. Duncan could feel the floor shake.

“Are you coming or not?” He had enough.

“When I’m ready.” She answered.

The man on Duncan’s right got up this time. “Are you her old man?” Amei’s whole-hearted laugh gave him the answer. “Maybe you should go on home without her.” He pushed Duncan away. “Or else.”

“Or else what?” Duncan challenged.

A man pinned Duncan’s arms behind him. Then the first fellow punched him in the stomach, with his full force.

“Hey, that’s my friend!” Amei protested.

“Relax,” said the bald-headed guy beside her. “They’re just playing. You said you wanted to have fun.” He tried to grab her. Amei deftly picked up two empty beer bottles and smashed them over his head. He dropped like a rock on to the table, unconscious. Then she jumped across the table and tackled the man holding Duncan, just as his partner delivered another blow to his jaw. They went sprawling across the dance floor. Duncan, now freed, delivered some punches of his own, smashing him into the table behind them. People shoved other people out of the way. Blows were abundantly distributed along with protests and screams. A full-fledged fight ensued. Duncan and Amei found themselves back to back in the middle of the dance floor. 

“Are you ready to come home, now?” He asked, moving out of the way of a tackle, and karate chopped the guy’s neck as he thundered by. 

“In your dreams.” She scoffed, as she kneed an assailant in the groin.

Duncan shrugged and put down his fists. “Have it your way.” He told her, as he left the dance floor and headed out of the building.

Amei found herself alone amidst the chaos. “Hey wait a minute,” she called after him as a body flew by her. “Let me get my coat!” She bounded over to the table and grabbed her jacket, stopping only for a second to look at the bald guy. “I had a great time!” She told the still unconscious man, and placed the Harley-Davidson cap back on he is head. Then she darted out the door dodging bodies, and jumped into Duncan’s convertible without stopping to open the car door. “Do you always have this much trouble picking up girls?” She asked him, as he started the ignition. 

“Only when I want to take them home with me.” He answered as they peeled out.


	6. EPILOGUE

Amei stormed into the apartment as soon as Duncan opened the elevator gate. “Who the hell do you think you are, hauling me home at the stroke of midnight?” She lashed out at him furiously.

“I just wanted to be sure you were safe.” He told her. 

“I’m not a child.” She answered, still angry. “I can do what I want. If I want to stay out all night, I can.” She set out to demonstrate her point. “If I want to have a drink,” she opened the refrigerator, “I can have one.” She stared into the refrigerator in disbelief. It was filled to the brim with groceries. “Where did all this food come from?” She asked, shocked. 

Duncan shrugged. “The grocery store.”

Amei looked into the cupboards. They, too were full. “Junk food, too!” She exclaimed. 

“Never go shopping when you’re hungry.” He replied.

Amei let out a heavy sigh, her anger suddenly melting away. “I know what you’re trying to do.” She told him. “You want to keep me locked up on your ivory tower, away from danger. Well, you don’t have to protect me, you know.”

“I do if you insist on hanging around with guys like the ones at the bar tonight.” Duncan reprimanded. “What the hell are you trying to prove?”

Compelled to honesty, Amei vented her frustration. “It’s just that I feel like such a fraud.” She cried. “How can I teach other people how to stay alive if I can’t even do it myself?” Dismayed, she went over to the couch where he was sitting.

“There were six guys, Amei.” Duncan reasoned. “I can’t even fight off six guys, and I wouldn’t go around looking for trouble to prove that I can. That wasn’t very smart, Amei.” He chided condescendingly. 

“People get raped all the time, Duncan. How you handle it makes the difference between being a victim or a survivor.”

“I have news for you. You’re not handling it very well.”

“Maybe not. Maybe it’s the only way I know how.” Tears filled her ebony eyes as blocked emotions suddenly surfaced. “What happened yesterday wasn’t the first time, and it probably won’t be the last.” Duncan regarded her with surprise. “Don’t forget,” she added, “We come from a time before the world was civilized.” There was bitter sarcasm in her voice. “It might take a while, but I’ll deal with them in my own way.”

“They’ve already been dealt with.” Duncan confessed.

Her worst fears realized, Amei hesitated and took a deep breath. “I know.” She whispered. Duncan looked at her, quizzically. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come home.” She explained. “Sometimes you’re like a dragon unleashed.” Sitting on the couch beside him she admitted quietly, “I’m lucky to have a friend like you, but there are some things you can’t do for me. Things I have to come to terms with by myself.”

“How can I help?” Duncan offered, holding her hand.

“Don’t treat me any differently than you did before,” Amei put her head on his shoulder. “Don’t handle me with kid gloves. I’m still the same person I was two days ago.”

“Are you sure?” Duncan asked, concerned. 

She looked into his eyes. “Don’t mollycoddle me, Duncan. Because if you do, I’ll suffocate.”

“You got it.” Duncan reluctantly agreed. 

Amei kissed him on the cheek as she stood up and went into the kitchen. 

“Oh, by the way,” he added.

“What?”

“It’s your turn to sleep on the couch.”

Duncan smiled broadly as a well-aimed dishtowel landed on his head.

THE END


End file.
